


Momentary Amnesia

by MiniCooper



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Abuse, Amnesia, F/M, Love, Sexual Themes, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniCooper/pseuds/MiniCooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Me and him forever in our mad love. In our madness we found love between the torture, the blood, the screams, the knives, and mad kisses of both love and hate’ Harley wakes up the morning after the prison break and can’t remember a thing at first...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentary Amnesia

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first and probably only Joker/Harley fic, but I just had to because I loved to movie too much to not do anything. I’m not forgetting the Joker is abusive at all but I still love the pairing. Hope you like the one shot :)I don't own anything.

The warmth is what hits me first, the suffocating heat all around me, then the feeling of sweat and the smell of it too, and wow there are so many other smells going on right now that I can’t identify. I slowly open my eyes and wait for them too clear, I see red, lots of flowing red… curtain? 100% not my room. Oh my God what have I gotten myself into?

Why can I not remember how I got here? There was when I arrived at Arkham, then when I got my case files, me getting ready for the day… then what? I shift my legs and feel an immense soreness through my whole body and I groan, but what is that I feel…? Smooth skin? A leg? Another person? I hear a groan to my right and notice the arm slung across my bare stomach under the black silk sheets… dear god…I have no clothes, and… a tattoo on my arm? I whip my head around to my right, ignoring the soreness and my heart racing, and I come face to face with a pale monster I have only seen on the news, and in my piles files of patients to treat.

The word “Damaged” scrawled across his forehead, his lips slightly open with red lipstick smeared all the way down his chin and down his neck. His bright green hair is a shocking contrast to both the sheets of his skin and the sheets. The only thing that stops me from screaming till I pass out is the slight smile on his lips, and the fact that if I do anything he would not hesitate to kill me, I know his history. I slowly assess the situation in my sleep hazed brain.

This makes no sense, why would I be here? With him! What did I miss? I have had a one night stand before but never like this, with so much information missing. It’s a classic story, two people meet they end up in a bedroom the next morning, nude, and sometimes without memory of the night before. But sleeping with a psychotic killer that is supposed to be locked away in a strait jacket is something totally different.

I am shocked and pained as I feel him stir to my side and pull me against the front of my body and curl himself around me, allowing me to feel every inch of his unclothed form. I am both sickened and scared thinking of all the things he is capable of doing in this situation. He nestles his head into my neck and shocks me as he gently places open mouthed kisses, in which I can feel his silver teeth graze on my neck while murmuring nonsense.

I hear him inhale and exhale with a moan and I feel a certain rather hard thing rise against my leg and I come to my senses and shift away as gently as possible, trying not to wake him. I keep telling myself to be calm, just be calm, and just find out what’s happening. As I try to slide get the bed his arm shoots out and latches onto my now tattooed forearm and I look down at him, his blue piercing eyes now wide and alert, searching my face.

My gaze lifts from him sprawled out on the black sheets and lift to his room. Knives, guns, roses, baby clothes, all sorts of guns, a bearskin rug stained with something purple was just the beginning of the disturbing scene. The orange and white wall is covered with Ha! Ha! Ha!s A harlequin suit is stretched onto a mannequin with a blonde wig to finish off the strangeness of the situation. There are blood stains across the floor and I soon notice the slumped body in the doorway and gasp and tear up slightly at the sick scene. What…what have I done?

“Harls, I thought we went over this, you don’t leave the bed until I’m done with you, right after I get you back.” He says in a voice that is a strange mix between of being both high pitch and low as hell, all in all, it’s an eerie voice to say the least. Harls? I begin to panic, my chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. His eyebrows crease. “Harley, you respond when I speak to you unless I say otherwise. But I feel gracious today; I think we should return to celebration, you are after all, home at last.” He yanks me towards him, too hard to be loving and instantly pries my mouth open with his.

That’s when I do something I instantly regret, I bite down, hard, on his tongue. He yells something unrecognizable and pulls back with gives me the escape the dark bed and bolt to the room I am almost sure to be a bathroom. I reach the door and swing it open, relieved to see the bathroom, and leap inside and slam and lock the door behind me. Start just glance in the mirror then have to do a double take. Who….who is that?

No. Way. My hair and skin is bleached white along with my hair, but my hair is a mix of pink and blue that’s starts about halfway down the locks. There are tattoos scattered all around my body, most noticeable is the little black heart under my right eye and the word “Rotten” written under it. My eyes are surrounded in matching blue and pink makeup that has smeared beyond being attractive, and red lipstick in a very similar pattern to my partners.

A few cuts and bruises are patterning my face but seem to be healing and pretty old. My body is thinner then I remember and what shocks me the most are the purple and red bruises, bite marks, and discolorations in the pattern of fingers and hands, starting from my neck reaching down to my ankles. My inner thighs ache and there and my neck are where most of the marks are. The more I look at myself, the less I see of Harleen Quinzel.

“Get your ass out here Harley! I just released you from a prison and then this happens? Get out here bitch!” The Joker begins banging on the door with a shocking amount of strength. I back into the corner of the bathroom, unable to move, tripping on articles of clothing and makeup items as I go. “Harley! Open this door!” There is fury in his voice now, but I’m paralyzed. I hear him stop for a moment, a gun chamber click then a deafening shot and the lock on the door explodes. He forces the door to swing open then he’s standing there, without a scrap of clothing, gun in hand, and also quite a lot of bruises and hickeys trailing down his body. “You should know better little girl.”

He slinks towards me and there is nothing within my grasp to defend myself from the psychotic killer just feet away and closing in. It’s like he doesn’t even notice that clothes are absent from his body. He comes face to face with me and before I know what is happening his hand has found my cheek and my head hits the side of the bathtub behind me. My head spins and I feel warm liquid trickle from the side of my head. The pain, the feeling of his hand on my face, the tingle, the pain mixed with emotions, something starts to surface with the sensations. I slowly begin to rise and all of a sudden things begin to come back, the asylum, the breakout, the vat of chemicals, our date gone horribly wrong, that bastard Batman, and my time in prison….everything.

Slowly a sadistic smile spreads across my face and I begin a small giggle that turns into a full cackle within moments. I rise and turn my gaze from the floor to my Mister. J, and instead of the blinding fear I feel a rush of gratitude, possessiveness, madness, and love. Only him. Me and him forever in our mad love. In our madness we found love between the torture, the blood, the screams, the knives, and mad kisses. Forever.

I am struck again but I know it is only because I provoked it, I know there will be love soon, as there always is. I come straight back up and now he is laughing, and I throw my arms around his neck, not caring if I get rejected. The madness is back, but strangely, I think it was always there to begin with, my whole life.

“Puddin’ I have to say I was a bit dazed when I woke up, but I’m all better now.” I whisper into his ear between giggles. I close my eyes when his lips attack my neck.

“Sure, or you just wanted pain mixed with your pleasure. But I’m feeling merciful and God, you’re so… good.” He whispers back kind of breathless, with definite possessiveness in his voice. Of course my pudding missed me, although it seems I might have underestimated how much he wanted me back in his arms like this. He cackles again and the feeling on my skin is incredible. Oh yes, this is how it’s supposed to be, this was what I live for. Oh how I missed him, oh how I missed home.

“What would you say to round two on our bearskin rug?” He asks, not waiting for an answer he pulls me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, laughing again as he walks us out of the bathroom towards the rug. Oh now we’re talking.

Note: Thank you so much for reading, and let me know what you thought! I hope you enjoyed it and reviews always help!


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